


Refuge

by pleasantnonsense



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, hints of pairings, nothing concrete, show standard humour and language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27125762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasantnonsense/pseuds/pleasantnonsense
Summary: Armin, Jean, Ymir and Krista are seemingly left to starve while they wait for the captain to retrieve them from thier post, so Armin figures out a way to get them some food, and the rest learn a little something about Armin.
Kudos: 14





	Refuge

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea when this takes place, except that they’re all in the scouts, and they don’t know about Historia or Ymir yet. 
> 
> This was 100% dumb fun. Written in like an hour. And not edited. Have at it.

It had been too long. Armin thought, sitting on the steps of a run-down house with Jean, Krista and Ymir. They were all dressed in civilian clothing, easily blending in with the rest of the poor and orphaned kids who hung around that area hoping for handouts.

It was a surprisingly dingy street in a town that was better off than most, and they had managed to find the house to use as shelter until the captain came to collect them.

They had been sent out as a team attempting to track down one of the people after Eren when the mission had gone wrong, leaving them stuck defenceless and hiding from the military police, _again_ , and waiting for their commanding officers to sort everything out.

For now, they waited, but still Armin couldn’t help but feel it had been too long.

Or maybe time was just stretching because of how hungry he was.

He was leaned back against Krista’s legs, the girl idly playing with his hair despite its current unwashed state. It was the first time in years he felt like the refugee orphan he had been, and it was a bit discouraging.

He was staring blankly ahead at the men walking by who refused to give them even a passing glance and heard Jean’s stomach growl from across the steps.

“Okay, this is ridiculous, we need to eat!” Jean told them and Armin rolled his eyes. “Where the hell is the captain? Or at the very least a squad leader to bring us back.”

“Why don’t we just mug one of these bastards, I’m sure they can spare the change.” Ymir suggested, watching another man walk by with a newfound energy in her glare.

“Obviously we can’t do that.” Armin turned his head to glare at the two of them, unknowingly messing up the small braid Krista had been working on.

“Yeah, we don’t want to draw any unwanted attention.” Krista added.

“Says you. The only reason anyone even bothers to spare us a look is a couple of cute little things like you two sitting there together like that.” Ymir rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, we could probably auction the two of you off to the highest bidder and eat like kings.” Jean added, despite the two smaller blonds turning beat red.

“Knock it off you guys! That isn’t funny!” Krista argue back while Armin turned up his nose.

“Well, I was going to offer a way to get some lunch, but I guess I’ll just share with Krista and you two can find another way to _eat like kings._ ” Armin said, sitting up straight.

“Hey, that’s not cool, I didn’t bring up any plans, and you know I’d never let some craggy old man touch my Krista!” Ymir replied in her defence.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Armin, it was just a stupid joke!”

Armin rolled his eyes, leaning down to pick up a rock and toss it in his hand nonchalantly. “Ymir,” He said after a moment. He honestly still didn’t know all that much about Ymir. She was always careful with the information she chose to disclose, but he figured she was his best bet for this specific question. “Who do you think is the wealthiest man on this street.”

Ymir sat up straighter at the question, looking confused but her narrowed eyes turned to the street and started looking over the people there. “I thought you said mugging was out.”

“Just answer the question.”

She sent a quick look towards him but then returned her eyes to the people. There was a good mix, a couple of merchants at their stands, a couple of mothers pulling along reluctant toddlers, and more than a few men dressed in nice clothing.

One in particular caught her eye, three buildings down the road and walking towards them at a quick pace. He had a briefcase with him and shoved one ironed sleeve up to check the watch on his wrist before picking up the pace. He was well groomed, and wore what definitely looked like an expensive suit, if not a very well-done replica.

“The guy coming up on us, three building’s down.” She told Armin, and he nodded and slipped the rock into the pocket of his sweater.

“What are you planning, Armin?” Jean asked, clearly just as confused as the girls.

Armin waited until the man was just a building away before he stood up and turned to them, giving them a large smile as he stepped off the stairs. “Don’t worry about it, guys! I’ll be right back!” His voice was cheery, matching the smile and they seemed confused at his sudden change in attitude. 

“What? Do you think just because you show him a cute smile he’ll buy us lunch?” Jean asked.

Armin ignored the question. Just as he turned, seemingly to run off somewhere, he all but crashed into the man Ymir had singled out.

He let out a high-pitched “Eep!” as his face hit a muscled chest, reaching his hands out to support himself and only having them get tangled in the man’s own arms. The man was quick to push him off, and Armin had to push himself off the man’s chest in order to step back, one hand slipping the first time and ending up somewhere in his jacket before he managed to regain his footing.

“I-I’m so sorry, I-” Armin started, taking a step back quickly only to have the man push him back another few feet. He lost his balance again, landing in a sit on the lowest step.

“Watch where you’re going, you filthy little mongrel!” The man insulted, and the group behind him quickly stood to his defence, even Ymir standing up to shout at the man. Krista hopped off the steps, moving to help Armin up off the ground.

“He said he was sorry, you ass!” Jean said, ready to start throwing punches, and Armin put a hand on his chest.

“It’s okay, it was my fault.” Armin said, turning an apologetic smile to the man who only huffed in response before storming off back down the road.

“Armin are you alright?” Krista asked, one hand still holding up Armin’s arm.

Armin dusted off the seat of his pants before he looked back to the group. “Really, I’m fine, calm down.” He said when he saw Jean still glaring down the road. “Now are you guys ready?”

He was greeted with confused looks, though the glint in Ymir’s eyes told Armin she was already piecing his plan together.

“To hear how you plan on getting us food, already?” Jean asked, annoyance lingering on his face but giving way to his confusion.

Arming smiled devilishly, pulling out the small sack of coins from the pocket he had put the rock in earlier. “No, to go get some lunch. On him, of course.”

Jean and Krista’s jaw dropped while Ymir threw her head back in laughter.

“Armin, you didn’t!” Krista said, but was easily drowned out by Ymir.

“You son of a bitch, you just got a hell of a lot more interesting, Arlert, let me tell you. Where’d you learn that fancy trick?”

“Yeah, what the hell, Armin?” Jean added.

Armin shrugged like it was no big deal, opening the pouch to try and figure out how much they had gotten.

“I was an 11-year-old orphaned refugee, trying to get enough food for Eren, Mikasa and myself.” He explained, satisfied with the amount and slipping it into his pocket. “You pick some things up, you know, when I wasn’t _auctioning myself off to the highest bidder_.” He looked pointedly at Jean who flushed at his words being thrown back at him. 

Armin seemed so delicate and soft-spoken; it was easy to forget he had been through all of the same things Eren was always yelling about.

“Don’t you feel bad, Armin? What if that’s all the money he had?” Krista asked, and Ymir laughed again.

“Oh please, you can practically smell wealth off jackasses like that.” She said loudly, jumping down the stairs to throw an arm over Armin’s shoulders. “The fancy outfit, the nice watch, the important briefcase. The dude was practically begging to be robbed, and _then_ his reaction to our dear sweet flowerboy, here? The word mongrel alone implies privilege.” She had pinched Armin’s cheek as she described him as a _flowerboy_ and Armin glared up at her, though the look was dulled by the bright red blush on his cheeks.

“Now let’s go get some grub!” Ymir said excitedly, reaching forwards to grab Krista’s hand and pulled her to stand under Ymir’s other arm, happily leaning down to tuck herself between the two blonds. “C’mon, horseface!” She yelled behind them at Jean before starting off towards the market. 

Jean glared at the insult but followed a few steps behind him, hands stuffed deep into his pockets.


End file.
